All Grown Up
by marcallie
Summary: When Reid is mugged, Morgan has a hard time treating him like a fellow agent instead of a baby brother.
1. Chapter 1

AN: I started writing this over Christmas break. I had to write the middle section first – I can't tell you why without spoiling things – so it's taken me this long to get the beginning written. Frankly, I've missed getting reviews, so let me know what you think.

If I owned Criminal Minds or any pieces or persons therein, I wouldn't need reviews to make me happy.

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><p>Special Agent Derek Morgan checked his watch for the third time in fifteen minutes. Then he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and checked the time there, just in case his watch was running fast for some inexplicable reason. Seeing that the times matched, he then made sure that he hadn't accidently set the phone to vibrate, and verified that he hadn't received any new text messages or phone calls in the half hour since he'd arrived at work. Taking a deep breath and letting it out in a huff, he headed out of his office toward the break room down the hall, his eyes anxiously scanning the bullpen beneath him for a lanky form that simply wasn't there.<p>

JJ Jareau and Kate Callahan were standing by the coffee pot discussing the latest episodes of _The Big Bang Theory, _a television series that JJ had convinced Kate to try out. "Don't tell me what happened on Thursday night," JJ insisted. "Will DVR'd it for me, and I'm going to watch it the first night we don't have a case and Will and Henry don't need me to do something else."

"In other words, you might get around to watching it sometime in the next three months," the brunette agent laughed.

A look of consternation came across the blonde's face. "You have a point. I still haven't finished watching all of the first season of _Orange is the New Black_, and the third one is scheduled to come out in a few weeks. This is why I try not to start watching new television series. I just end up getting frustrated."

"_The Big Bang Theory_," Morgan said casually, walking over and filling his own mug from the coffee pot. "Isn't that the show about the genius scientist?"

"Yeah," JJ answered eagerly. "It's my newest favorite show. Don't you think it would be hilarious if we could get Reid together with Sheldon Cooper?" Then, seeing Morgan's blank look, she clarified, "The genius scientist. They could discuss quantum physics or Star Trek or whatever else is the nerd topic of the week. He'd have someone who understands whatever the heck he's taking about most of the time. I bet they'd be best friends."

Kate punched JJ lightly on the shoulder. "Be nice," she admonished.

"What do you mean?" JJ asked, honestly puzzled.

"Sheldon is a fictional character, and Reid is a real person. I don't think he'd appreciate you implying that he has more in common with someone from a made-up TV comedy than he does with those of us in real life."

JJ scoffed. "You haven't known Reid as long as we have, Kate. He's used to us teasing him. It wouldn't hurt her feelings."

"Yeah," Morgan agreed. "Besides, you're assuming that Reid IS a real person."

"Oh, yeah," laughed JJ. "Remember when Emily poked him in the cheek and talked about how almost life-like he was? You would have loved it, Kate. Spence didn't know how to react." She realized Kate wasn't laughing. In fact, she was looking at them with a slightly disgusted grimace. "I guess you had to be there," JJ concluded.

Luckily at that moment Penelope Garcia came into the break room and interrupted them before things could get any more awkward. "Greetings, prince and princesses of lightness," the bespectacled technical analyst proclaimed. "Has anyone laid eyes on the Boy Genius yet this morning? Our fearless leader is requesting his presence posthaste."

Morgan was pleased that someone else had brought up Dr. Spencer Reid's absence before he had to. "No, I haven't seen him yet," he answered casually. "Is he late?" And he glanced at his watch as if he had no idea what time it was.

"Uh oh," JJ intoned, also looking at her watch. "When Spence is late, that's a bad, bad thing."

Kate was again confused. "He's twenty minutes late," she said. "What's the big deal? Hotch isn't going to get mad at him for that, is he?

"Of course not," Garcia declared, as if shocked that Kate could suggest such a thing. "It's not the wrath of Hotch that we're worried about."

"Then what?" asked Kate.

Morgan put his arm around Kate's shoulders and drew her aside, as if sharing a secret. "Reid has a bit of a tendency to get himself in trouble," he explained.

"Bit of a tendency?" JJ questioned. "He's a trouble magnet, and you know it, Morgan."

Kate pulled away from Morgan's arm. "You're teasing again," she admonished. "Why can't you all leave the poor man alone, especially when he's not here to defend himself?"

"Au contraire, mon amie," Garcia insisted. "While it is true that my Chocolate Adonis and his Vanilla Cohort do enjoy playing with young Dr. Reid as if he were the mouse to their cats, in this case teasing has nothing to do with it. Reid really is a trouble magnet. And he is never, ever late to work. If he's not here by 8:30 in the morning, something is definitely wrong."

By this time JJ had her cell phone out and had punched the speed dial button for Reid. She held it by her ear for a minute, then shook her head as she put it away. "Not even voice mail. It must be off."

Kate still wasn't buying into the hype. "Is it really that hard to believe that he turned his phone off and overslept? Or he forgot to charge it and traffic was bad coming into the city? There are a million explanations for why he isn't here and he's not answering his phone."

Searching for a hit of caffeine to help him face the day ahead, Special Agent David Rossi came into the break room. "Who isn't answering his phone?" the older profiler asked.

"Reid," JJ and Morgan answered together.

"Oh, no," Rossi proclaimed, half joking, half serious. "Do we think he's been poisoned, shot, drowned, or merely kidnapped?"

"Not you too, Rossi. I expect these two to pick on Reid, and Penelope seems to honestly think there might be a problem, but I didn't think you'd join in." Kate was exasperated with the whole group of them.

Rossi placed a comforting hand on her arm. "You're new, Callahan. You don't know Reid like we do. This is not us picking on him. This is real concern. Spencer Reid is the epitome of Murphy's Law: if anything can go wrong, it will."

Kate threw up her arms, dislodging Rossi's hand. "I give up. You all treat him like he's a toddler instead of a thirty-three year old certified genius."

Before she could finish her tirade their boss stuck his head in the door. "So this is where everyone is," Aaron Hotchner commented, "except said certified genius. Where's Reid?"

"He's late," Kate stated. "Just late. Not dead in a ditch, not abducted by aliens. He's just late for work."

Hotch gave her what was for him a quizzical look. "All right. " He blinked once and his usual stoic expression was back. "I need everyone in the round table room."

"Do we have a case, sir?" Garcia asked. "I haven't seen anything."

Hotch's gaze lingered on Kate a moment longer before he responded. "No, not a case. Chief Cruz has asked us to consult with Labombard's team. They are in their second week of tracking a serial killer in Montana. They thought they had a profile down, but there have been some developments that have them questioning themselves. Cruz thought talking it through with us might help them clarify. They'll be Skyping us in ten minutes."

The team finished getting their coffee and filed out of the break room. As he went by, Morgan stopped his boss. "Hotch, I really am worried about Reid. You know he's never late."

Hotchner glanced at his watch. "He's only half an hour late, Morgan. It happens to the best of us. If he still hasn't come in when we're done with this consult, then you have my permission to worry."

Morgan nodded, knowing it was the best he was going to get, and followed the others toward the conference room.

Before they crossed the threshold, Hotch's cell phone rang. He put it to his ear. "Hotchner . . . yes it is . . . yes he is . . . is he all right?"

"Hotch?" Morgan asked. "Is it Reid?"

Hotch put up a finger, indicating for Morgan to wait. The other team members started back out from the conference room, unabashedly eavesdropping.

"I'll have someone there in half an hour. Thank you for calling." Hotchner clicked his phone shut and put it back in his pocket, shaking his head.

"Morgan, get over to GW Hospital."

"Reid?" Morgan asked again with trepidation.

"Reid," Hotch acknowledged. "They said he's going to be all right, but he needs a ride home. He was mugged last night."

"Told you," Morgan declared, looking toward their newest member as he ran down to his desk and grabbed his keys out of his jacket pocket, but Kate didn't detect even a hint of gloating in his tone.


	2. Take It or Leave It

It actually took Morgan forty-five minutes to drive to the hospital in the heart of D.C. That gave him plenty of time to contemplate the many injuries Reid had suffered over the past ten years, and to wonder what the damages were going to be this time. On the one hand, "mugged" didn't sound that bad. Even though he teased Reid about his lack of physical abilities, the truth was that Reid was reasonably good at hand-to-hand combat and quite a decent shot. Chances were that he could hold his own against some drug-hungry street thug. On the other hand, Reid would not have asked the hospital to call Hotch if he had any choice. Were he physically able, he would have taken the Metro back to his apartment and covered up his injuries or thought up some convincing explanation to keep the rest of the team from knowing what happened. Morgan shook his head, partially annoyed with a double-parked car that was blocking the turn into the emergency room parking lot and partially annoyed with Reid's preference for keeping the team in the dark where his well-being was concerned. The kid should understand by now that they only had his best interests at heart.

The driver of the parked car finally came out of the hospital and moved his vehicle, allowing Morgan to turn into the parking lot and grab a space close to the entrance. He strode through the revolving door and up to the information desk just inside. He waited a couple of minutes for the young woman sitting at the desk to hang up the phone call she was on, jiggling his keys impatiently as she droned on about some sort of medical test he didn't understand. Finally she hung up and looked at him expectantly.

"I'm here for Dr. Spencer Reid," Morgan explained. "He's a patient."

"Of course," the receptionist replied as if she knew exactly who Dr. Spencer Reid was and had been waiting eagerly for Morgan's arrival. "He's in cubicle four. Go through those double doors, past the nurses' desk, and it's the second cubicle on the right."

Morgan pushed through the doors and stopped at the nurses' desk. "Excuse me," he said, flashing his badge at a woman wearing SpongeBob scrubs. "I'm here for Spencer Reid. Can you tell me his condition?"

She looked up slowly from the computer screen she was studying. "No, I'm sorry," she replied. "I can't share medical information about a patient without his consent."

"Dr. Reid is an FBI agent. I'm his partner," Morgan explained.

"I know who Dr. Reid is," she said with an indulgent smile, "and I know who you are, Agent Morgan. And not only do I not have Dr. Reid's permission to share information with you, he specifically asked us, and I quote, 'not to tell that nosy partner of mine anything about my condition' end quote."

Morgan stared at her incredulously. "But . . . " he started.

"But nothing," the nurse stated firmly. "He's in cubicle 4. Second on the right." She pointed down the hallway.

Morgan slipped his badge back into his pocket, shaking his head again. "All right, fine," he said. "I'll ask him myself."

"You do that," she said, and went back to her computer screen.

There was a curtain pulled around each of the cubicles. Not wanting to completely invade his friend's privacy, Morgan called, "Knock, knock," before opening the curtain and sticking his head through.

Reid was sitting on the visitor's chair beside the patient bed, reading a three-inch thick book. He looked up and said, "Come in," in response to Morgan's voice.

Morgan took a long look at the young man in front of him. He was wearing a GWU sweatshirt that was obviously brand new. He was sporting a black eye, a split lip, and a large Band-Aid on his forehead. His right arm rested in a sling, and the pants he was wearing were spattered with dried blood. Morgan expelled a low whistle.

"Whoa, Pretty Boy. Looks like he did a real number on you. Or should I wait until I see the other guy?"

Reid sighed deeply. "Morgan, don't start. I've had a long night, and I am not in the mood." He looked back down at the book in his lap, but Morgan could tell that he wasn't actually reading it because he stayed on the same page for more than a few seconds.

"Come on, kid. You know you want to tell me what happened."

Slamming the book shut, Reid tossed it on the bed in front of him. "I mean it, Morgan. Lay off. I'm tired and I'm sore, and I just want to go home and go to bed. I only called Hotch because I need a ride, and I wish he had sent someone who didn't ask so many questions."

Morgan put his hands up as if he were proving to an Unsub that he was unarmed. "Okay, sorry, Reid. Don't bite my head off. I'm just concerned about you, that's all."

"Right," Reid muttered bitterly.

Fortunately another nurse arrived at that moment, bringing with her Reid's discharge papers and a bag with his medications. Morgan was immediately distracted and went into quintessential Morgan-mode, flirting shamelessly with the petite red-head. Sure, he and Savannah were exclusive, but it didn't hurt a man to look. "Hi there," he said, his voice dropping into a lower register. "I'm Derek Morgan. And you are**?" **

"Busy with my patient," the woman replied without missing a beat. "Spencer, all the directions for taking care of your arm are in there, and your antibiotics and pain medication are in the bag – Extra-Strength Tylenol, no narcotics. If you aren't feeling better in a couple of days, come back. See your regular doctor in a week to make sure everything is healing properly. And if you have any problems at all, give us a call. I put my personal cell number on the top of the page there. You can reach me any time. I mean it. Don't hesitate to call if you need anything." She emphasized the last word, laying her hand on Reid's uninjured left one, causing Morgan's mouth to drop open in shock.

"Thanks, April," Reid replied as the nurse left the area. He started to rise from his chair, and seeing him wince, Morgan quickly grabbed his left arm to help him up.

"Spencer Reid, that girl was flirting with you," Morgan exclaimed.

Reid was busy trying to arrange the papers and the bag in such a way that he could hold them with one hand. "What? No she wasn't."

"She absolutely was," confirmed the older man. "Trust me, I know flirting when I see it. You dog. What did you do that got her so interested?"

"Morgan, she was just being nice," Reid insisted. "Here, take these." He thrust the paperwork into Morgan's hands, took a glance around the cubicle to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything, and started toward the exit past the nurse's station.

Morgan watched him for a moment, taking in the stiff way he moved and that he was definitely limping on his left leg. "What about your book?" he asked, picking it up off the bed before he started after his friend.

"Leave it," Reid called back over his shoulder. "One of the doctors loaned it to me because I was bored."

Morgan scanned the title: _Review of Medical Microbiology and Immunology._ "Oh, yeah, that's some nice light reading," he commented to himself as he started down the hall after Reid.

He caught up easily and held the outside door open, allowing Reid to shuffle through. He then stepped around the younger man and opened the passenger door of the SUV. Reid had some difficulty hoisting himself into the vehicle, so Morgan laid the papers in the back seat and gave him a hand up. "Maybe I should get you one of those child safety seats," he remarked as he pulled the seatbelt down and fastened it across Reid's lap. He then walked around the front of the car and climbed into the driver's seat.

They drove in silence for several minutes, Reid staring out the window while Morgan negotiated the one-way streets of downtown. As they pulled onto the Beltway, Morgan glanced over at his partner several times, waiting for Reid to break the silence. When the younger man seemed disinclined to do so, Morgan finally said something. "So, are you going to tell me?"

"Tell you what?" Reid asked innocently.

"Really, Reid? You left the office last night just fine, and then you end up in the hospital again. Aren't you going to tell me what happened?"

"No, I don't think so."

Morgan was getting a little annoyed by Reid's attitude. "Look, Reid, I understand that getting mugged would make anyone a little stressed out, but that is no reason to treat your friend who drove all the way across the city to pick you up from the hospital like his very presence is infringing on your private space."

"I'm sorry, Morgan, but I really don't feel like giving you one more thing to tease me about. It's bad enough that I ended up in the hospital again; I don't need your constant harping on what I should have done differently just because I didn't handle things the way you would have. Maybe, in a couple of days, when I don't feel so tired and beat-up and god-damned stupid for getting myself in the situation in the first place, maybe then I'll tell you what happened. But for now, could you please just leave me alone for once?"

Morgan wasn't sure how to respond to Reid's tirade. He didn't say anything more until they were inside Reid's apartment. He got Reid settled on the couch with a pillow and blanket, and went into the kitchen to get a glass of water so he could take his medicine. Seeing the empty cabinets and refrigerator, he felt he said to say something. "Hey, Reid, you don't have anything to eat in here. Do you want me to run out and get you some food?"

Now that he was home, Reid had relaxed a little and was able to answer calmly. "No, thanks, Morgan. I really just want to sleep."

"But you're going to be hungry later." Morgan was encouraged by Reid's more conciliatory tone. "I could bring you something for lunch."

"I appreciate it, really I do, but I have no intention of waking up for lunch. They gave me breakfast at the hospital."

"Dinner?"

Reid sighed. "Look, Morgan, I'll make you a deal. If you will leave me alone, and get the rest of the team to leave me alone, and I mean really leave me alone, until six o'clock tonight, then I will gladly accept your offer of dinner. But that means no phone calls, no dropping by on their lunch hour just to check up on me, no turning on my laptop camera remotely from Garcia's lair. None of it."

Morgan was torn. He wanted to honor Reid's wishes, but he was honestly afraid to make that promise without some reassurance. "Listen, Reid, I'll do it, but I need you to at least tell me what your injuries are so I know whether it's safe for you to be alone here all day with no one checking on you."

Reid huffed out a breath in annoyance, but Morgan could tell he wasn't as irritated anymore as he was acting. "Fine. From least to worst: I'm pretty much covered in bruises. I twisted my bad knee, but they don't think anything is torn, just strained. Two broken fingers and three broken ribs. A mild concussion, emphasis on mild. They did an MRI and found no abnormalities. Seven stiches in my forehead, forty-three stiches in my arm. That's it. I'm fine."

Despite himself Morgan had to laugh. "All right, Pretty Boy. Your definition of fine and mine are a little different, but I guess it's safe to leave you by yourself. And I'll try and keep the team off you, but you know Garcia and JJ are going to want to call and see for themselves that you're okay."

The medicine was starting to work, and Reid was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. "They can try if they want, but it won't do any good. I don't have my phone. I lost it last night. And I am absolutely not getting off this couch until at least five-thirty. So unless they want to bring you with them to break down the door, they're not getting in. Dinner at six. Take it or leave it."

"I'll take it," Morgan said, making sure Reid was well covered by the blanket and that the remote and his medications were within easy reach. "Do you need anything else?"

But Reid was asleep. Morgan let himself out of the apartment and made sure the door locked behind him. "With his luck, someone would come in and steal his television if I left it open," he remarked to himself as he walked back down to his car.


	3. Intra-Team Profiling

AN: This chapter is shorter than usual, but I hit a good stopping point, and the section is going to be long, so I didn't want to keep going. If you're so inclined, tell me in your reviews what you think really happened.

By the time Morgan got back to the BAU it was lunch time. Because the consult with the other team had put them behind, and because it had taken longer than it normally would with two of their team members missing, everyone had decided to order sandwiches from a nearby deli and eat in the office. The team knew each other so well that any one of them could order for any other and have an excellent chance of getting exactly the right thing, Therefore Morgan wasn't at all surprised to find a turkey sandwich on whole wheat bread with mustard, tomato and lettuce sitting in front of an empty chair in the conference room where the others had gathered to eat. He unwrapped the waxed paper and took a huge bite before his teammates started peppering him with questions about Reid.

"Give him a second," Hotch ordered them all as Morgan took a swig from the water bottle which had also been provided for him. Morgan nodded his thanks as settled into his chair.

"Okay, now I'm ready," the dark-skinned profiler informed them. "But I'm not sure how much I can tell you."

"Just share what you know," suggested Hotch.

So Morgan recounted what had happened at the hospital, emphasizing the nurse who had flirted with Reid and downplaying how much all of the nurses had ignored him.

"But what actually happened to him?" Garcia broke in, unable to wait any longer. "Is our Boy Genius okay?"

"That's two separate questions," Morgan replied. "As to the second, he assured me he was 'fine.'"

Rossi and Hotch shook their heads, while Garcia put a hand up to her mouth in horror and JJ uttered a quiet, "Oh, no."

Kate looked around the table at them as if they had suddenly started speaking a foreign language. "What's wrong with all of you?" she asked. "Isn't 'fine' a good thing?"

The team members all considered one another before JJ was silently elected to explain. "Normally, yes," she told their newest team member, "but this is Reid. When Reid says he's 'fine' it means he's anything but. He told us he was fine both times he was shot."

"And when he was infected with Anthrax," Morgan added.

"Even after Maeve died," Garcia put in, tears shining in her eyes. "Oh, our poor baby."

Morgan gave her a one-armed hug. "It's not as bad as all that, mama," he consoled her. "He does have some broken ribs and fingers, a mild concussion – he emphasized mild - and a bunch of stiches in his arm, but he was moving under his own power, and they did let him go home from the hospital."

JJ formulated a puzzled expression. "Why did you leave him alone, Morgan? If he has a concussion, one of us should be there to make sure he's okay."

"Hey, I wanted to stay," Morgan defended his decision. "Reid absolutely refused to let me. He said he was going to sleep all day and made me promise that we would all leave him alone."

Before he had even finished talking JJ had pulled out her cell phone. "I'm going to check on him and make sure he's okay."

Morgan put his hand on her phone before she could dial. "JJ, I know you're feeling all Mama Bear protective, but he seemed pretty adamant that he didn't want anyone waking him up until tonight. Besides, I guess the guy who mugged him took his phone, because he said he didn't have it."

Garcia went from sad to angry in flash. "Who was it, Morgan? Did they catch the guy? When I find out who dared to hurt our Boy Wonder, I'm going to make him sorry he ever even left his house yesterday, much less performed a criminal act against one of my babies."

"Yes, Morgan, what did happen?" inquired Rossi.

"I don't know," Morgan said simply.

Everyone spoke at once, demanding to know what Morgan meant and how he could possibly not know what had happened. He held up his hands as if warding off physical blows. "Don't blame me," he exclaimed. "Reid refused to tell me what happened."

Hotch took charge as only he could. "What exactly did he say, Morgan?"

Morgan took a deep breath. "He said he didn't want to give me one more thing to tease him about."

"I told you," Kate declared. "I told you that you were hurting his feelings with all of your teasing."

"But we wouldn't tease him about getting mugged," JJ professed.

Morgan agreed. "No, we wouldn't pick on him when someone had hurt him. He knows that. I don't know why he was so vehement about it."

"Maybe he wasn't mugged," Garcia exclaimed. "Maybe he was saving a beautiful damsel in distress and was beaten by nefarious characters. Or maybe he was on a top secret mission like JJ was and he's not allowed to tell us what really happened."

Morgan chuckled. "I'd like to believe something like that, my charming storyteller, but I'd guess the answer is something much more realistic." He snapped his fingers as an idea hit him. "Maybe the mugger was female. He doesn't want us to know he was beaten up by a girl."

"Or maybe it's exactly what he said and he doesn't want you guys making fun of him," Kate suggested irritably.

Hotch stopped them before they could hypothesize further. "We don't profile team members," he reminded them. "When he's ready, he'll tell us. Until then, we all have a lot of work to do, especially since Reid isn't here for you to slip your files to." He gave them all a look that invited no argument. Without another word, they all returned to their desks.


	4. Please tell me

AN: Sorry this took so long. In my head this was going to be a tiny little filler before the flashback to what actually happened, but I couldn't make it come out the way I wanted it to. The funny thing is that part of this chapter was the first part I ever came up with in my head. Oh, well, at least it gets us where we need to be. The next two chapters are already written, so I'll put them up pretty quickly.

Any suggestions for improving this chapter would be muchly appreciated.

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><p>JJ was the last to leave the conference room, and she glanced down into the bullpen as she headed toward her office and was surprised to see her husband and a man she had met a few times before standing by Reid's desk. "Will," she called as she started down the stairs, "what are you doing here?"<p>

He greeted her with a kiss before speaking. "Hi, cher. You remember Steve Pearson? He's one of the detectives handling Reid's case. When I reminded him I knew all of ya'll, he asked if I'd bring him by."

JJ eyed the other man appreciatively. A conservative suit seemed to barely hold in his bulging muscles, and the grin he flashed her way revealed dimples in both cheeks of his handsome face.

The other detective held up a blue evidence bag. "I have his cell phone and his gun to return to him."

JJ was saying, "Oh, no, not his gun," at the same time that Kate was saying, "Reid isn't here," when they were both interrupted by a pink tornado.

"Does that mean you caught the miscreant who hurt our Boy Genius?" Garcia had followed JJ down, moving slightly more slowly on her three-inch heels. "I hope you made him sorry! Or if not, let me know his name, and I will erase his existence from the cyber universe." The buff detective looked at the woman wearing a pink sequined dress with no little sense of alarm, wondering as she grabbed onto his arm if perhaps she was a deranged killer who was in the office being interviewed by the agents. His hand twitched reflexively toward the gun on his hip, but he relaxed visibly when Will put an arm around the woman's waist and drew her away.

"Don' worry, Penelope. Steve and his partner arrested the guy a couple a hours ago. As soon as they released the drawin' based on Spence's description, three different people called in to report him."

"Wait a minute," JJ interrupted her husband. "Are you telling me that you knew Spence had been hurt and you didn't call me? Don't we have a standing agreement that if either one of us knows anything important about anybody in our family, we are morally obligated to share that information immediately?"

"Hold on there, cher. Don' be gettin' angry with me. I just found out about it all half an hour ago when Steve brought it up back at the station, and he assured me that Reid's team had been notified."

"Immediately!" JJ repeated loudly, poking her husband in the chest, although the smile on her face belied any real anger.

Will threw up his hands in defeat. "All right, all right. Next time I will call you immediately. Jus' don't blame me if it's three o'clock in the mornin' and I wake you up to tell you Spence stubbed his toe."

Drawn by the raised voices, Morgan came back out of his office to see what was causing the commotion. "Will, my man," he exclaimed, coming down the stairs and giving the Cajun a hearty handshake and a clap on the back. "I haven't seen you around here since the last time we tried to get you blown up."

Detective Pearson was still smiling at the group, but Kate noticed that his smile wasn't reaching his eyes any more, and he had backed up against her desk, as far from the group as he could get without being obvious about it. "Don't worry," she said to the tall man. "They're all certifiably insane, but they're not usually dangerous. This is just the way they talk to each other. You get used to it." She stuck out her hand. "I'm Kate."

"Nice to meet you, Kate. I'm Steve." He shook the proffered hand, still looking a little nonplussed but at least not alarmed any more. "Do you work with Dr. Reid too?"

"I do," Kate affirmed.

"Then would you mind telling me something about him?" When Kate said for him to go ahead, he glanced at the other people standing nearby to make sure they were engrossed in their own conversation. He lowered his voice to keep his question private.

"Please tell me that he's gay."

"What did you just say?" Morgan's voice rose above the cacophony of banter taking place in the bull pen. Suddenly everyone else was silent.

Pearson turned to Morgan with a look halfway between guilty and frightened. "Um, nothing."

"Don't tell me 'nothing.'" Morgan pushed past Will to stand face to face with the younger detective. Up close it was easy to see that their sizes were comparable, but Pearson seemed to shrivel under Morgan's glare. "Did you really just ask if Reid is gay?"

The detective's gaze was darting from person to person, trying to find someone to save him. "Umm, yeah. But I didn't mean anything bad by it."

Will laid a hand on Morgan's arm. "Chill out, Morgan. It was a simple question. I wouldn't of thought you would get upset about it."

Morgan spun toward Will. "Not get upset? Why wouldn't I get upset? Just because Reid got beaten up, this son of a bitch thinks he can call him a pansy, say he can't stick up for himself? And he doesn't even have the decency to say it to his face; he comes in here insinuating that Reid is weak when he's not here to defend himself."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Hearing Morgan's words, Detective Pearson's whole demeanor changed. He stopped looking afraid and started looking angry. "I in no way indicated that I thought Doctor Reid was weak or unable to defend himself. Where did you get that from? All I asked was if he is gay."

"Well what else would you have meant by it?" Morgan demanded.

"I . . . " Pearson started to respond, then seemed to realize he was in a room full of people that he didn't know. "Nothing. I didn't mean anything. Just forget about it. If Dr. Reid isn't here, I can return his things to him later. Or my partner can."

Seeing that his friend was afraid to say what he was really thinking, Will got a little angry on his behalf. "What is the matter with you, Derek Morgan? No one is sayin' anythin' bad about Reid. Steve had a perfectly good reason for askin'."

"What possible reason could he have for asking that?" challenged Morgan.

"I wanted to ask him out!" The words erupted from Pearson's mouth almost against his will. He then looked at each of the profilers in turn, wondering if he was about to get physically attacked on top of the verbal assault.

The alteration in Morgan's demeanor was comical. He went from pissed off to surprised to confused to embarrassed all in the space of a couple of seconds. "You . . . what?" He couldn't seem to get his head around the idea.

Now that things were calming down, Will was amused by the situation. "Morgan, Steve here is gay. And I'm guessin' that he was hopin' that Reid was too." He turned to the other detective. "You coulda just asked me, Steve, and saved yourself a whole lotta trouble."

"I was hoping I'd see him again and I could, you know, figure out if he was interested without anyone else being any the wiser. Guess that didn't work out too great." The big man looked sheepish. "Sorry if I offended anyone."

Morgan's mouth was still gaping like a wide-mouthed bullfrog. "You're gay?" he asked unbelievingly, as if Pearson had announced he was a Martian or a robot instead of something as commonplace as homosexual.

Kate intervened. "Yes, Morgan. Steve's gay. And he thinks Reid is cute. Is that so hard to believe? I think Reid's cute too."

"Oh, I think he's a lot more than cute," Steve corrected her. "I think he's one of the most amazing people I've ever met. Brilliant, brave, humble. . ."

"Let me get this straight," JJ requested. "Spence got mugged and beaten within an inch of his life, and somehow you interpret that as him being amazing?"

Now Will looked confused. "Where did ya get the idea that Reid got mugged?" he asked. "Reid didn't get mugged."

The argument that ensued was enough to pull Hotch and Rossi out of their offices as well. They watched everyone for a couple of minutes before Hotch raised his voice over the tumult. "What's going on out here?"

The group stopped quarrelling and turned toward the two older men. "Will says that Reid wasn't mugged," Morgan informed them.

"Will, if Reid wasn't mugged, then what happened?" As usual, Hotch cut right to the chase.

The two detectives looked at each other. "I don' know, Hotch," Will demurred. "If Reid wanted ya ta think he was mugged, I'm guessin' he didn' want ta tell ya what really happened."

"Too late for that now, LaMontaigne," JJ commanded. "Whether he meant to tell us or not, you've let it out now."

Will looked at Hotch helplessly. "Much as I want to respect Reid's privacy, you know the team isn't going to let this go," the senior agent agreed. "And if he's trying to hide something from us, it's probably better if you tell them than if they start trying to find out on their own."

"You know how they are," Rossi concurred.

Will turned back to Det. Pearson. "You know the story better than I do; it's your case."

"Are you sure I should?"

Will nodded. "Hotch is right. They won' back off. Ya migh' as well tell 'em everything."


	5. Flashback

AN: I have been berated repeatedly for ending the last chapter without explaining what happened. Luckily for all of you, I already had the next two chapters written. Here's the first one - you still won't know, but you'll be closer.

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><p><em>Flashback<em>

_Spencer Reid sighed as he surveyed his empty cabinets and refrigerator. You would think with his eidetic memory and high IQ he could remember that he needed to go to the grocery store before he left work, or at least before he walked from the Metro stop half a mile to his apartment. In his defense, it had been three days since he'd eaten the last of the cereal and headed out the door, and he had been working a particularly difficult case in New Hampshire in the meantime. However, all excuses aside, he was going to have to head out again before he could make anything for dinner. He didn't even have bread for a sandwich. Briefly he considered ordering in and going shopping the next day, but quickly vetoed that idea when he realized he had used the last of the coffee beans before he left as well, and he was not going to face the next morning without a ready cup of his favorite brew._

_For a moment Reid deliberated whether or not he wanted to take his gun. He had already locked it up in the safe he had bought the first time JJ and Will asked him to watch Henry. Now it was part of his routine when he entered his apartment to put his keys, cell phone, and wallet on the table beside the door, place his pistol in the safe, and spin the dial. Once he had put it up for the night he rarely went to the trouble to get it back out again before morning. Of course, he rarely went to the trouble to go anywhere once he was home for the night, and Morgan had given him a ten-minute lecture just two days before about it, but Reid didn't want to put up with hearing all the reasons why he should have it with him again, so he dialed in the combination and slid the pistol back into the holster he had not yet taken off. Refilling his jacket pockets, he carefully locked the door behind him and started back toward the Metro._

_Two blocks from his building Reid passed the little park where he brought Henry to play when his godson stayed with him. It really wasn't much of a park, more like a playground with a bike trail around a small pond, but it was sufficient for kicking a soccer ball around or playing tickle monster on and around the monkey bars. It also served as a shortcut to the Metro stop during the day, but Reid chose not to travel its paths once the sun went down. True, he was an armed FBI agent, but that was no reason to invite an attack, and the park was not well lit._

_Approaching the back entrance to the park, Reid wasn't really paying much attention to his surroundings, instead calculating what he needed to buy at the grocery store vs. the amount he was willing to carry on the subway. There was a small corner store nearer to his apartment, but it was considerably more expensive than the chain supermarket, and was already closed for the evening. Therefore, he would put off buying milk and canned goods until the next day. Coffee, bread, luncheon meat, and peanut butter should be sufficient for tonight and tomorrow morning, he decided, and maybe a small something sweet to snack on before bed._

_Reid was so busy thinking through his shopping list that he didn't notice the young boy running out of the park until the child grabbed his arm. Startled, Reid took a step back and instinctively reached for his gun before realizing that the boy wasn't much of a threat. He shook his head at himself before focusing on what the kid was saying – no, gasping – at him._

"_Mister, mister, you've got to help me! My mom . . . my mom . . . " he seemed unable to finish the thought._

_Between spending time with his godson and working cases involving children, Reid was a lot more comfortable with young people than he had been when the team had coined the phrase "The Reid Effect." Instinctively he crouched down to put himself more on a level with the obviously terrified boy. "Around five or six-years-old," Reid considered automatically. "White, blond, decently dressed but nothing fancy. Shoes are fairly new but are not name-brand, so his family probably doesn't have a lot of money." All that went through Reid's head before he even spoke._

"_Slow down, buddy," he said, keeping his voice calm. "I'm here to help you, but I need you to tell me what's wrong."_

"_My mom," the boy repeated again. He seemed to be stuck on those words. "My mom . . . "_

"_Where is your mom?" Reid asked, trying to break the perseveration without completely throwing the boy off._

_Taking a deep breath, the youngster pulled himself together. "In the park," he pronounced, gesturing toward the entranceway between two hedges. "She was teaching me to ride my bike. It started to get dark, and she said it was time to go home, but I begged her for five more minutes." His eyes widened. "It's all my fault!"_

_Part of Reid wanted to shake the child and yell at him to finish his story, but the agent in him knew that would just fluster him. "It's going to okay. What happened next?" he asked, keeping his voice level._

"_I was riding. She let go, and I went a little way without her. I jumped off and turned around to cheer when . . . three men . . . three men grabbed her and dragged her into the bushes. I wanted to go help her, but she yelled for me to run, so I did, and then I found you, and my mom . . . my mom . . ." Overwhelmed, his voice stuck again._

_Later, Reid didn't even remember everything he did in that moment. Rising swiftly, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and handed it to the kid. "Do you know how to dial 911?" he asked. When the boy nodded, Reid looked around. The street was deserted, but lights shown in a nearby coffee shop. "Go into that store," he instructed, "and call 911. Tell them to send police to the park at the corner of Lindsey and Wicker Streets. They'll ask you a lot of questions. Just listen carefully and answer everything they ask you."_

"_Can't you do it?" the boy asked fearfully, thrusting the phone back toward Reid._

_The agent shook his head, turning the youngster toward the coffee shop and giving him a gentle push. "I can't," he replied. "Go on. You'll be fine."_

"_What are you going to do?" cried the boy, but he started toward the lights._

"_I'm going to help your mom," Reid declared, pulling his gun out of its holster and starting toward the park entrance._


	6. Flashback Cont

AN: Here it is: You will finally know what happened to Reid. However, you still won't know why he's acting the way he's acting. I can't decide if the fact that no one has figured it out means that it's a brilliant plot twist or that it's totally stupid. Only time will tell, since I haven't written that part yet.

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><p><em>Flashback continued . . .<em>

_Gun drawn, Reid moved quietly down the path staying close to the trees on one side, ready to dive out of sight should he see anyone approaching. The small boy outside the park – Reid realized he didn't even know the kid's name – had said that three men had attacked his mom, but the FBI agent was acutely aware that he really had no idea what situation he was going to find. He had two main goals playing through his mind: protect the woman in question until help could arrive, and don't get himself killed._

_When he passed the miniature bicycle lying in the middle of the pathway, he knew he should be getting close. He strained his ears for any evidence of an altercation nearby, but at first all he could hear was the distant sound of traffic on the main thoroughfare. Then he heard grunting and gasping coming from behind a cluster of bushes. Had he not been listening for it, he would have walked right by without a second thought._

_Deciding that the best defense was a strong offense, Reid stepped around the bushes, planted his feet firmly and pointed his weapon toward the noise. "FBI," he announced, trying to channel his inner Hotch. "Everyone freeze!"_

_The park was not well lit on the pathways, and back in the bushes Reid had a hard time determining exactly what he was seeing. Fortunately his sudden appearance surprised everyone into momentarily following his command and freezing. As his eyes adjusted, Reid managed to make out two men hovering over a woman lying on the ground. "Put your hands in the air and turn around slowly," he demanded. The men raised their hands over their heads and turned toward his voice. Stocking masks covered their faces, so only the mouths and eyes were visible. Reid was vaguely aware that the woman was scrambling away from them, but most of his attention was focused on the gleam his eyes caught in the taller man's hand. "Drop the weapon!" he shouted, shifting his own gun slightly toward the man he now perceived to be the greater threat. "Drop it or I'll shoot!"_

_The man lowered his arms part way, and Reid was able to see that he was not holding a gun, as Reid had feared, but instead held a knife. The blade caught a shaft of light from the path, and Reid estimated that it was at least six inches long and was coated in a dark substance that was most likely the woman's blood. Reid swallowed intensely and repeated, "Drop the weapon."_

_So focused was Reid on the knife that he jumped when the shorter man spoke. "Take it, easy, buddy," he requested, taking a step toward Reid. _

_The agent immediately swung his gun toward the man who was moving, then swung it back when the first man stepped forward as well. "Both of you freeze!" Reid demanded, wincing inwardly when his voice squeaked. He shifted his gun back and forth between the two, taking a step back himself in order to keep both men in his sights simultaneously. "Don't make me shoot you."_

_Something niggled at Reid's brain, something the kid had said earlier outside the park. The agent ran through the conversation in his head when the two suspects stopped their forward movement. "He said there were three men, not just two," Reid realized a split second before 200 pounds of muscle slammed into him from behind a tree. Instinctively he managed to pull the trigger once before the third man grabbed Reid's gun hand as they went down, and Reid felt his trigger finger snap as the weapon went flying._

"_Son of a bitch!" Apparently Reid had managed to shoot one of the two original assailants, who was now cursing vociferously. As he hit the ground, Reid rolled in an attempt to get out from under the man who had tackled him. He managed partway, leaving his arms free but his legs pinned. He tried to kick, but the human weight lying on his legs was too great for him to move. Instead Reid grasped his two hands into a single fist and brought it down with all his strength on top of the man's head. Too late to stop himself, Reid realized just how much the blow was going to hurt his own broken finger a split second before the pain traveled up his arms. Reid uttered a few curse words himself, but was pleased to feel the body drop deadweight onto his legs._

_The one uninjured attacker growled, "Where did the bitch go?" Reid sensed that he was turning to go after the woman who had managed to slither off into the bushes. "Protect the woman," he reminded himself. "Run!" he shouted toward where he had last seen her while with a tremendous effort he pulled his legs out from under his assailant and launched himself forward. One hand managed to grab onto the pants leg of the man starting toward the bushes and slow him down._

"_Stop." Reid meant to yell the command, but it came out more like a plea. He used the hand clutching the man's leg to pull himself forward so he could grab on with the other hand as well, earning a kick in the face and another in the ribs. As his opponent drew back his unencumbered leg for a third kick, Reid pulled viciously, causing the man to fall on his back. With a roar of anger he slashed his arm toward Reid, who recognized that the thug still held the knife. Frantically he let go with his right hand and threw it up in time to protect his face. He felt the blade slice into his arm and slide along the bone. As his own blood sprayed into his eyes he thought inanely that it was a good thing he couldn't see anyway._

_Reid was so busy fighting with the knife-wielder that he had temporarily forgotten about the other two assailants. As someone grabbed him by the hair and hauled him to his feet he realized that at least one of them wasn't as badly hurt as he would have hoped. He wrapped his arms around himself and tried his best to protect his head and his vital organs. Thankfully he heard sirens in the distance and fervently hoped that the police would arrive in time to fulfill his second goal of staying alive. For no reason other than his brain tended to try and keep itself busy he started trying to calculate if the number of fists and feet crashing into his body belonged to two combatants or to all three. Deciding it was only two, he then wondered idly if the third man was too injured to participate or if he'd gone after the woman. That thought brought him temporarily out of the stupor he had entered at the fifth or sixth punch. "Protect the woman," he remembered. Bellowing like a wild animal Reid threw himself forward, swinging wildly at his two assailants. He ripped the mask off of one of the men, who immediately turned and ran off through the park. He caught the other man completely by surprise since he had not responded to their blows for several minutes, and he managed to land a couple of good hits before he felt arms grabbing him from behind. "No!" he shouted, struggling mightily. "I have to protect the woman until help arrives! I have to . . . . I . . . ." The agent saw that uniformed officers were cuffing the two men with whom he had been battling and allowed himself to relax. "Oh," he said, "you arrived. Good." And then everything went dark._


	7. Flashback part 3

**AN: You would think after five snow days I could have written more than this, but this chapter is being a real bear for some reason. I don't think my muse likes being cold. Some reviews might warm her up nicely, though. We'll get back to the team on the next chapter.**

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><p><em>Flashback continued (again):<em>

_The noise ringing in Reid's ears was giving him a horrible headache. He threw his left arm over the edge of the bed, attempting to find his clock and hit the snooze button without opening his eyes. When he encountered another person's hand instead of his bedside table, he was instantly awake and slightly terrified. "What the hell . . .?" he started to ask, then broke off with a grimace as the bright light bored holes into his brain._

"_Take it easy, Agent Reid," a calm male voice recommended as his arm was laid gently back down beside him. "You're in an ambulance on your way to George Washington University Hospital."_

_Everything rushing back into Reid's memory was more of a blow than the light had been. He moaned, and then unthinkingly attempted to sit up against the straps that were holding him in place on the gurney. "The woman in the park!" he cried out. "I have to protect her. They're going to kill her."_

"_Easy, Agent," the paramedic cautioned again, putting a hand on each of Reid's shoulders to prevent him from harming himself further. "You already saved her. She's in another ambulance right in front of us. She's going to be fine."_

_Reid relaxed and huffed out a deep breath, feeling like his lungs were on fire. "Are you sure?"_

"_Positive. She had some cuts and bruises, but you apparently got there before anything truly terrible could happen."_

"_But . . ."_

"_Enough," the EMT insisted. "She's fine. But you, Agent Reid, are pretty beat up, and we're almost at the hospital, so settle down. You can ask all the questions you want after the docs have had a chance to check you over."_

_That really wasn't sufficient for Reid, whose mind was processing information at half its usual speed, but he could feel the ambulance slowing down as it turned into the bay, and the incessant siren finally cut off, so he held his tongue for the moment._

_Five minutes later he had been transferred to a bed in the emergency room and a doctor was shining a light into his eyes assessing his pupils. Reid tried to tell the man that he was fine, but the medic chose to ignore him and continue evaluating his patient. There was some conversation right outside the cubicle, and then a nurse stuck her head in through the curtain. "Doctor Wicker, there are two detectives here who want to talk to Agent Reid."_

"_They'll have to wait," the doctor answered without even looking up from the cut on Reid's forehead which he was preparing to stitch. "This arm is going to need stitches inside and out, we need to x-ray his ribs, his knee, and his hand, and I want to get an MRI to make sure he hasn't scrambled his brains too badly."_

_Reid grabbed the doctor's arm his with good hand before he could take the first stitch. "No, I need to talk to them now, before all that."_

_The doctor smiled kindly, deep wrinkles beside his blue eyes indicating that he smiled often. "It can wait, agent. We need to take care of you first."_

_Reid's brain might not have been up to full speed, but he was still thinking fast. "I'll make you a deal, doc," he offered. "Let me talk to them for five minutes, and then I'll let you do whatever you need to do without any hassle. Otherwise, I'm going to argue and struggle the whole time, and your stitches are going to come out looking like train tracks."_

_The doctor regarded him skeptically. "You do realize that it's your face that you're going to mess up. It's not much of a threat to me."_

_Reid nodded ruefully. "It's not much of a face to mess up," he professed, "and it's very important that I talk to them." Then, seeing that the doctor was still inclined to ignore him, he added, "Please."_

"_Five minutes," the doctor conceded with a sigh. "No more."_

_The nurse allowed the two detectives to enter the cubicle while the doctor went to catch up on his paperwork for five minutes. Without even thinking about it Reid assessed the two of them and developed a quick profile. The first was a forty to forty-five year old woman with dark hair and eyes, and she was obviously the senior partner. The other was a man around Reid's own age, which meant he probably had not been a detective for very long. However, he took the lead, introducing himself as Detective Pierson and his partner as Detective McDowell. He flipped open a small notebook and made ready to ask Reid some questions, but the agent interrupted him before he could start._

"_The doctor's only giving us five minutes, and I have the feeling he's the kind of man who keeps to a tight schedule, so forgive me if I ignore protocol and let you ask your questions. You know I'm an FBI agent, right?"_

_The two detectives glanced at one another. Reid noted that they must have been working together long enough to have developed the wordless communication necessary between good partners. After a moment the woman nodded at the man, and he replied. "Yes, the EMT's checked for identification and found your credentials."_

"_OK, good, that should save some time. Am I correct that you were able to arrest two of the assailants?" Reid continued._

_Detective McDowell answered this time. "Actually, one of them bled out before we could get him to the hospital. Nice shot, by the way. We did arrest the other one, but he wasn't giving up any information, and we haven't been able to talk to the victim yet, so we don't know anything about what happened other than what we could see from our quick glance at the scene. We were hoping to get a report about what went down from you."_

"_That'll have to wait," Reid answered, glancing at his watch and seeing that two of his five minutes were already gone. "First, you should know that there was a third assailant. They were all wearing masks, but I ripped his off right before he ran away. I need you to get a sketch artist down here right away."_

"_Look, Agent Reid, there will be time for that after you've gotten patched up and had a chance to rest. The guy just lost both of his partners. He's going to be holed up somewhere to regroup," McDowell explained. "You don't need to worry that he's going to hurt someone else before we can get a sketch done."_

"_No, you don't understand." Reid forced himself to slow down his usual babbling, aware that time was slipping away. "I have a concussion. Short-term retrograde amnesia is not unheard of even with mild concussions. I'm afraid that, if I fall asleep, I might not remember what the guy looks like when I wake up. And, to be honest, I was exhausted even before all this happened. Now that the adrenaline has worn off, I'm not sure how much longer I can keep myself awake. So one of you needs to call for a sketch artist to come down here, and I'll answer questions for the other one while the doctor works on my injuries."_

_Doctor Wicker had re-entered the cubicle in time to hear the last of that statement. "Hang on, Agent Reid. That wasn't the deal. I gave you your five minutes. Now it's my turn."_

"_I can multitask," Reid insisted, using his good hand to shoo Detective McDowell out of the cubicle. "I need to get this information to them so that they can catch this guy before he runs. Besides, answering questions about what happened will distract me from all the poking and prodding you're going to be doing to me."_

"_Or I could just give you medication to knock you out," the doctor suggested._

"_No, no narcotics and no sedatives, for a host of reasons. You can use local anesthetics for the stitches. I need to stay conscious."_

"_No offense, Agent Reid, but you are a real pain in the ass," Dr. McDowell announced, preparing a syringe with a local anesthetic._

_Rather than being offended, Reid conceded the point. "I know. I have teammates who tell me that all the time. Now, Detective Pierson, you have some questions for me?"_

_End flashback._


	8. A Good Friend is Hard to Be

**AN: I've actually had most of this written for a while now, but I got stuck toward the end. Thanks to all the followers, favoriters, and reviewers who encouraged me to get on with it. BTW, I'm definitely going to set Reid up on a date with some OC from this story. Who do you think it should be?**

As Detective Pierson finished his recounting of Reid's story, the members of the BAU looked at one another with a mixture of astonishment, pride, and a hint of embarrassment. Rossi was the first to speak.

"I think it's safe to say that he wasn't mugged."

Garcia grinned widely. She had shed a few tears, and hidden her face against Morgan's shoulder during the worst of the narrative, but now she was all smiles. "I should say not. Our baby boy is a bona-fide knight-in-shining-armor hero! I'm going to bake him cupcakes . . . with sprinkles. He loves sprinkles."

Always the FBI agent, Hotch focused on the case more than on the personal story. "Is the woman all right?" he asked. "And did you catch all the perpetrators?"

Detective Pierson nodded. "She has some cuts and bruises, but Doctor Reid arrived before they got too far."

"Rape or robbery?" Rossi asked.

"Rape," the detective affirmed. "Evidently the three guys were drinking and taking drugs all day and whining to one another about how women never give them a fair shake, or some such nonsense."

"Apparently never occurred to 'em that there migh' be a reason for that," Will pointed out.

Pierson agreed. "Anyway, they decided to show some woman what "real" men they are. It was completely a crime of opportunity; they just grabbed the first female they saw. Trust me; these guys are not master criminals."

"And you got the third one?" Hotch reiterated.

"Oh, that's the best part," Pierson said. "Right after the sketch artist finished working with Reid, he was heading back to the station to put it out over the wire, when he glances over at this guy standing at the nurses's station raising a huge fuss because he hasn't been seen by a doctor yet. And Lahr, the artist does a double take, and then he calls me to come back to the hospital. 'You're not going to believe this, Steve, but the third guy is right here.' I arrested him ten minutes later there in the emergency room. He was so shocked at being caught – plus he was still fairly well plastered, and in pain from the beating Reid gave him – he told us the whole story before I even asked. And then, when I took him into the station, his partner started yelling at him for talking to us, and he ended up confessing to the whole thing as well. I doubt we'll even have to have a trial. This will be one for the lawyers to hash out.

"So," the detective concluded, holding up the evidence bag with the phone and the gun in it, "We're not going to be needing these. They weren't really evidence anyway."

"I'll see that they get back to Reid," Hotch said, offering to take the bag. And then, as Pierson hesitated, Hotch cracked a rare smile. "You can trust me."

"Oh, it's not that," Pierson sputtered. "It's just, well . . ." He looked around at the group helplessly. "I was kinda hoping to give them back to him myself."

Will clapped a hand on his fellow detective's back with a laugh. "Bad news, lover boy. I've seen the type Reid goes for, and they're decidedly female."

"No chance, huh?"

"Afraid not," JJ commiserated. "Do you know who Lila Archer is?"

"Sure, the movie star," Pierson replied, looking confused. "What does that have to do with . . . what, he has a crush on her?"

They all waited a beat, expecting Morgan to jump in with some witty comment about his partner and his brief fling with the popular actress, but Morgan remained strangely quiet. JJ continued in his stead. "Not a crush. They were an item for a while."

"No way." The young detective's eyes widened. "I'm not sure if I'm impressed or depressed. Oh well. Get those back to him, will you?" He left the evidence bag on the desk and started out of the unit.

"Later, cher." Will gave his wife a quick kiss, and then started after Pierson. "Don't you worry, Steve. We'll fin' ya a nice young gentleman of your own," he avowed, holding open the glass door for the other man.

The BAU team was quiet for a moment, each caught up in his or her own thoughts. Finally Kate voiced some of what they were all feeling. "Wow."

"Wow is right," Rossi agreed. "Who'd of thought our little Spencer had it in him?"

"I would have," Hotch declared. "You all don't give Reid nearly enough credit. Now, everyone get back to work. This day keeps getting us further and further behind, and personally I don't intend to come in this weekend to finish paperwork." He turned and headed for his office, taking as a given that they would all comply.

Rossi, JJ and Garcia headed for their respective offices as well, Garcia muttering something about cookies and cinnamon buns. Kate picked up one of the files sitting on her desk and began reading it, but she had barely started when she realized that Morgan was still standing there, looking at her with a strange expression on his face.

"What?" she asked.

For a second she thought Morgan wasn't going to answer her. She could tell he wanted to say something, but for some reason he wasn't coming out with it. She was just about to ask him what he wanted again when he blurted out, "Callahan, you gotta help me."

Kate was at a loss. "Okay. Help you with what?"

"With Reid." He said it like the answer should make perfect sense, but Kate was no more clued in than she had been before.

"What about Reid?"

Morgan dropped down into the chair at the desk across from hers and rubbed his hands over his face. He took another moment to gather his thoughts, and Kate let him take that moment without interrupting. "I fucked up," Morgan finally confessed. "I fucked this up bad, and I don't know how to fix it."

Kate was surprised on several fronts. One, it was rare for Morgan to use profanity, and when he did it was usually in the midst of extreme anger. Second, it was virtually unheard of for Morgan to admit that he had made a mistake. The man wasn't arrogant, exactly, but he was very, very sure of himself. Third, if he were going to acknowledge an error, she wouldn't have expected him to come to her. She and Morgan got along fine, but she was the newest member of the team. They hadn't established the easy-going friendship he had with their other teammates, at least not yet. Still, he was admitting to a mistake, and he had come to her. If she handled the situation correctly, they would be one step closer to having that kind of relationship. She ran through several possible responses in her head and decided that, since Morgan was being straightforward, she would be as well.

"I'm not exactly sure what you think you fucked up," she stated firmly, "but if you think you did, you're probably right."

The dark-skinned profiler looked at her for a minute with surprise on his face, and then he laughed ruefully. "Not pulling any punches, are you Callahan?"

"I didn't see much need to," she told him. "You seem to be beating yourself up pretty well; I might as well join in." Despite her lighthearted answer, her demeanor was solemn. "So what exactly did you f- up?"

Morgan shook his head sheepishly. "He thinks I don't take him seriously, that I don't think he's as much of a man as I am."

"Do you?"

"Of course I do." Morgan's answer was instantaneous, showing Kate that he really meant what he was saying. "Spencer Reid is one of the strongest, bravest, and obviously the smartest man I've ever known. I would, and have, trust him with my life."

"Why don't you tell him that?"

"I have. We all tell him that all the time. It's just, he never seems to believe us. It's like he thinks we're just saying it to make him feel good, but we don't really mean it."

Kate asked, "Do you think he doesn't believe any of you?"

Morgan thought about that question for a minute. "I think he believes Hotch, at least most of the time. And I've seen a few times when Rossi told him he did a good job, and it really seemed to mean a lot to him. And I know he believed it about Alex. They had the closest thing to an equal relationship I've seen Reid have with anyone."

"Why do you think that is?"

"Maybe because they taught together first. Reid wasn't having to try and prove he was just as good as she was; they both already knew it." Morgan was quiet for bit. "Or maybe it was just the way she treated him."

"So I guess the question is, did Reid act differently toward her, or did she act differently toward him?"

"Does it matter?" Morgan asked.

"I think it does," Kate answered. "Because you can't change the way he acts, but you can change the way you do."

"I don't treat him badly," Morgan defended himself.

"No, but you don't treat him like an equal," Kate pointed out. "You treat him like a little brother. Think about it. Would you assume that Hotch was in trouble just because he was late to work? Would you be shocked if you found out JJ had saved someone who was in trouble?"

Morgan sighed deeply. "No," he admitted. "But I don't know how to change. What do I do?"

"Look, Morgan, I haven't been with the team very long. I don't want to come in here and mess up your dynamic. But you could start by trusting him a little. He is a grown man, after all."

"I'll try," Morgan promised as he started to walk away. "Thanks, Kate." He stopped before he got to the stairs and turned back. "Can I ask you a favor?"

"Sure."

"I'm supposed to go over the Reid's after work and take him some food, but now I don't think I should. I don't want him to think I'm just checking up on him."

Kate laughed. "Weren't you?"

"I was," he acknowledged, "but he also really needs some food. His cabinets and fridge were completely empty. Could you take him something and tell him I'll see him tomorrow? Let him see that I know he can take care of himself?"

"I'd be glad to," Kate said. "And, Morgan, I just want you to know, I think you're a good friend. A little over-protective, maybe, but a good friend."


End file.
